Marie Harte: Right Wolf, Right Time

She swallowed hard and forced herself to ignore the gruesome pictures that would no doubt haunt her tonight. Lately, she’d had a feeling trouble was coming. Not just to town, but for her specifically.

“Sophie?” Monty stared at her as if he could see inside her.

Not wanting anyone to ever get that far into her mind, she shook her head and gave him a warm smile. “I found a terrific slab of meat at the store. I had Benji cut something special for you.”

Their butcher had a crush on her, but the older bear also had an on-again, off-again relationship with a raptor nearing seventy-five, a few years his junior. Sophie didn’t consider him a threat on any level, for which she was grateful. Lately, the wolves circling her gave her the shivers. Talk about feeling like a piece of meat…

“Benji’s a good guy. For a bear.” Monty nodded. “He likes to pretend to save the good cuts for the cats, but whenever I do the shopping, I bring back better meats than Dean or Grady.” Dean and Grady Chastell, Monty’s pridemates, were younger brothers to the pride leader, Monty’s best friend, Burke. Monty, a wolf, lived with a pride of cats, foxes and a bear. How odd, and how very fitting for the wolf she constantly thought about. He was different, like her. Just another way they fit.

“You probably get the better stuff because you’re one of the few men who never flirted with Benji’s niece. He’s pretty protective of Juneau.”

Monty blinked but said nothing. Why did his silence make her feel like she had her information wrong?

“What can I help you with?” he asked and hustled her into the kitchen. To take her mind off the fact he might have slept with the pretty Kodiak or because he didn’t want her asking questions?

Like he really had to worry about that. As much as Sophie wished she could be more self-confident, like her friends Julia and Gabby, she couldn’t quite work the words past her stiff lips. A lifetime of keeping her thoughts to herself and staying out of sight didn’t go away just because she’d found her place in Cougar Falls. Her last two and a half years had been ideal, but they didn’t make the previous twenty-four fade away.

Now if only a sexy wolf with a hard stare and a mouth to kill for would make a move and distract her. He still gripped her shoulders with a firmness she’d dreamed about. Monty had a bad habit of being too hands-off.

“What can I help you with, Sophie?” he asked again.

“Um, you can make the salad.”

To his credit, he didn’t make a face at the thought of eating rabbit food—what the other wolves usually called the veggie aisle in the store.

While he rinsed the lettuce and cut up some vegetables, they made small talk about the latest tour group he’d taken through Big Mountain, and what they anticipated for the coming months. He worked for Chastell Tours, the pride’s touring company located in Whitefish. She envied him his ability to labor alongside humans without fear, but she preferred Cougar Falls, where only other Ac-taw could visit the town. The magical totem that protected the Ac-taw would keep her uncle from ever finding her. She prayed.

Annoyed to find herself thinking about him again, she focused instead on Monty. What must it be like to live with cats, foxes and bears? She stayed on the outskirts of wolf society, content to associate with other wolves from a distance. But Monty openly preferred non-wolves to the order. She envied his confident dismissal, especially the way he dealt with disapproval from Rafe, the Gray Wolf alpha.

She wished she could be as firm in her decision to remain apart. More like Monty, except not so careful all the time. Frankly, she grew tired of waiting for him to take control of what she hoped might be a burgeoning relationship. She wished she had the guts to plaster herself against his incredible body. He had scars—a lot of them—and from what she’d gathered, Ac-taw rarely scarred unless they’d been through serious damage. His marks were a testament to his strength and made her want him all the more.

Heck, she’d love to kiss him until she forgot her own name.

With a subtlety she’d mastered long ago, she watched him work, absorbing the grace of his long-fingered hands, the flex and play of his broad back and thickly muscled arms. The man had a tapered waist she was dying to measure, and an impressive ass she’d giggled about over mojitos with her friends a time or two.

“Where should I put all this?” He showed her the colander full of wet lettuce alongside a cutting board full of carrots, cucumbers, peppers and tomatoes—enough to feed an army.

She bit her lip and hoped he hadn’t seen her ogling his butt. “The, ah, that bowl up there.” She pointed to a shelf above him, wondering how he thought they’d eat all that salad.

Forget the lettuce, Monty. Kiss me. Touch me with the passion you’re hiding all the time.

He turned with the ceramic bowl in hand and froze. “Sophie?” He didn’t blink as he watched her.

Good Lord, he’d probably smelled her arousal. She felt like an idiot. She watched enough X-rated movies to know how the professionals handled this sort of thing. The telling music, the nudity, weird scenarios and all the female howling while partners pleasured one another all over the place—Sophie knew the score. But she didn’t have the experience, let alone double D-size breasts or thighs that could spread like a wishbone, to take on Monty. And as much as he looked like sex on a stick, this particular wolf spooked if she walked too near.

She sighed. “Thanks, Monty. I’ll get the steaks.” She stuck her head in the refrigerator and tried to pull herself together while she searched for the meat. She knew she only had herself to blame for Monty’s distance.

When she’d first arrived in Cougar Falls, she’d been in shock and terrified of herself and everyone around her. Living without knowing what she really was, and whom she’d been living with for so long, had devastated her. Theo Sheridan had saved her life and her sanity. She owed him, big time. But the stubborn man refused to accept her gratitude—a lot like the wolf in her kitchen, so close and yet so far away from her.

As she withdrew the meat and stuck it on a broiler pan, Monty dumped the salad fixings in the bowl and propped his back against the counter.

“Problem?” she asked.

“Nope. I just like to watch you work.”

Stupid heat once again rushed to her cheeks, and she shoved the broiler pan into the oven while he studied her. With comments like that, he had to like her, didn’t he? He’d even serenaded her at the pride a few weeks ago, where she often went for some girl time and a movie with her friends. For some odd reason, Monty seemed fascinated by Scooby Doo. Months ago, she’d found a stuffed dog on her front porch wearing a bandana of his, his scent layered over the stuffed toy. She’d thought maybe he’d finally ask her out.

And nothing.

Still, she’d loved it, and she slept with the thing nightly. That was as much action as she wanted from any male, stuffed or real, unless Monty was prepared to give her something else. She desired him, but she worried she wanted more than he did. When she’d first arrived to town, he’d asked her to coffee a time or two, but she’d been too scared of her own shadow to accept. Months had gone by, and he’d never asked again.

She’d tried to deepen their friendship with a few hints, but he’d never acted on any of her invitations to join her. Instead he offered friendship without strings, which she’d appreciated. At first. Now she wanted a closer relationship. But how to get Monty to see that? Because if he didn’t think of her in a romantic sense, she’d feel worse than stupid. She’d be devastated.